


Rewind

by bette (ferns)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Starting Over, cisco is in the right literally the entire time he's doing good, even though his coping mechanisms aren't very healthy, it's only there for a paragraph tho, new old timeline barry needs to shut his fuck, new timeline barry is Confused but should also probably shut his fuck, or at least sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8236102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferns/pseuds/bette
Summary: Cisco sees Barry while leaving the support group.
...It goes better than expected, considering Barry ruined Cisco's life.

  Pure speculation on 3x02, with lots of angst.





	

**Author's Note:**

> anyways if they don't use this as an excuse to bring armando onto the show they can f right off bc my kid is Good and Pure and i love them.
> 
> also this is really self-indulgent and i'm sorry but while barry completely deserves to get yelled at he does also deserve to have a chance to earn back his friendships (note i said earn back, not just get them back magically)

He spots him while leaving his group therapy meeting, the mandated one of  _ childhood trauma  _ (and wasn’t that ironic, considering that nobody had ever believed him about what he had seen), tall and hunched over with his hands shoved down into his pockets.

Cisco almost wants to laugh.  _ Now  _ he wants to come back,  _ now  _ he wants to talk, what is it this time? What does he expect Cisco to do this time? What hoops does he want him to jump through, what tech does he want made now before leaving without saying so much as a _ thank you, Cisco?  _ What does he want?

Barry opens his arms, leaning forward, and Cisco takes a step back automatically, bracing for a hit. Barry frowns and drops his arms. “Cisco? Are you okay? I asked Wally where you were and he-he said that you were here, that you always came here, I…”

Cisco laughs in his face. It’s pathetic, really, since it chokes off into a sob partway through. “What, wanted to join in? Wanted to join the fucked-up kids club?” His voice goes sour. “You’re not wanted here.”

“What? Cisco, I-” Barry sounds honest to god  _ confused  _ and Cisco wants to slap him, wants to punch him in the gut for hurting him and toying with his emotions and messing with time like it’s his own personal playground.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Cisco spits. “Go on, get out of here, unless you think they can help you in there.” He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder at the last of the stragglers. Some of them eye the two of them, and he knows they’re wondering if they need to intervene like they did last time someone stopped by and wanted to talk to Cisco. He shakes his head at them. “Oh, right, this is only for the people who  _ watched.” _

“Cisco?” Barry says quietly. “I think we should go somewhere else to talk, are you-are you okay?”

Cisco doesn’t care that he can feel his blood bubbling in his veins.  _ “‘Are you okay’?”  _ He mocks, smiling humorlessly. “Am  _ I  _ okay? Why do you care now, Barry Allen?”

“I’ve always cared!” Barry’s eyes are as wide as dinner plates. Cisco almost starts crying.

“No, you haven’t,” Cisco snarls. “You haven’t always cared. I  _ remember _ some of it, some of what you did, but that isn’t even the problem.” The words Barry said to him are still stinging, humming like an angry wasp underneath his skin. “Not anymore. I don’t suppose you’ve conveniently forgotten what you told me, because if you have I’ll remind you.”

Barry looks so confused and heartbroken and Cisco cares, he cares so badly, but he wants Barry to see what he did to him. He wants Barry to  _ understand what he said,  _ he wants him to understand-

“Watch,” Barry says numbly. Meets Cisco’s eyes. “Watch, you said-you said this was only for people who  _ watched,  _ what were you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Cisco whispers. “Don’t you remember? I  _ told  _ you, I told you what had happened, and you remember what you said? You said  _ ‘at least you got to say goodbye when it happened.’” _

Barry recoils. “What? I don’t-what? Cisco, I’d never-” His eyes go wide. “But-who died? It sounds like someone died, who was it?” He sounds desperate and Cisco would be sure it was an act if he didn’t know that this Barry is not the same as the old one. But he should still remember. He should still remember. “Was it Caitlin, I tried to call her, I tried to call her and she wasn’t picking up, I left so many messages…”

Cisco snaps and shoves him backwards, stalking forward with his eyes shining with tears-and strange metallic light. “Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t fucking act like you don’t remember. I  _ told  _ you, I  _ trusted  _ you, and you told me that  _ you had it worse.” _

“Cisco…” Barry tries to reach out and set a comforting hand on his shoulder, eyes wide and hurt, but Cisco slaps his hand away before it can make contact. Barry winces. “Cisco, I’m so sorry, but you have to believe me-I swear, that wasn’t me! Or it was, I guess, but-but not  _ this  _ me, that was me from this timeline, I-I don’t really understand it but I swear I would  _ never  _ say something like that do you!”

“But you did,” Cisco says, throat closing up. He tries to swallow past the lump that seems to be blocking his airway. “You said it and I can’t forget it.”

He remembers telling Barry, he remembers-oh god, he doesn’t even want to think about it, because the way he remembers it and the way he’s explaining it are so very different. Barry,  _ this  _ Barry, the new Barry, probably thinks that it was a serious discussion, that Cisco sat him down and told him about it, maybe after the Reverse-Flash showed up.

Barry probably doesn’t think that it happened in bed, Cisco’s fingers tracing their way down Barry’s stomach, kissing his freckled collarbone and whispering that he wasn’t alone. Murmuring into his ear that they really had found each other, that it was okay that they were just two fucked up kids whose lives had been ruined by a monster. Maybe that was okay.

That might even be the worst part. Because Barry-after he disappeared, Cisco started to replay that night, over and over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even thought much of the statement at the time, because it was true. Cisco  _ had  _ gotten to say goodbye, he really had, but-but what Barry had said had struck way too close to home.

Too close to Dante shoving him and telling him that at least he’d gotten a chance to say something, at least he’d gotten to tell him goodbye. Nobody else got that chance. And now he was  _ wasting  _ that chance on lying to the police about what had happened, wasting his chance on lying to the police and telling them that it had been a monster, it had been a monster, it had been a monster.

Too close to his parents shunning him, the reminder of their dead son too painful. Too close to doing everything in his power to avoid being anything like  _ him,  _ letting his hair grow out long and delving into science headfirst, even more than he already had. He skipped gym and let himself fail it, no reason to do well (it’s not like it was worth the other guys that picked on him, anyways) and remind his parents that he was still there.

It was just… Too close.

It's the little things that build up and make you break down.

Cisco looks at the floor. He can’t look at Barry right now, can’t look at his goddamn face and his goddamn eyes and he can’t, he just can’t, because he knows if he looks at him he’s going to forgive him. And Cisco can’t handle that, can’t handle giving Barry another chance that he hasn’t had time to earn, forgiveness that he hasn’t had the chance to deserve.

If Barry asks, he will give him that chance-of course, he won’t forgive him right away. Won’t forgive him for the nightmares and the feeling that he’s missing something and the godawful feeling that there’s something wrong, something terribly wrong with the entire world. Because Barry did that. Barry messed around with time and now time is trying to get back at him, because  _ time wants to happen. _

Time wants to happen and it’s Barry’s fault that it isn’t. It’s Barry’s fault that Caitlin doesn’t pick up the phone, it’s Barry’s fault that Cisco hasn’t seen Iris in weeks (and that the last time he  _ did  _ see her she told him to get the hell out), it’s Barry’s fault that Cisco can’t close his eyes without seeing the timeline where he was rich, the timeline where he died, the timeline where he was a  _ god. _

He’ll give Barry another (third, fourth, fifth) chance, but he won’t let himself fall in love with him again. Cisco can’t afford to.

And then Barry slips his fingers into his and uses his other hand to lift his chin up, make him look Barry in the eyes, and Cisco tells his insides to stop melting. This isn’t healthy. Barry can’t just do this and expect Cisco to come crawling back, expect him to jump at the chance to help him.

A hopeful voice at the back of his mind whispers that this is a different Barry. A completely different Barry. Somehow Cisco knows that if he was standing in a room with both of them he’d be able to tell the difference. Maybe it’s the posture, the way that this Barry holds himself, curled in and nervous and not nearly as arrogant, maybe it’s the way that his fingers feel on Cisco’s jaw that tells him that this isn’t the same.

This isn’t the Barry he knows, and he’s oddly okay with that.

Of course, this Barry isn’t perfect. Cisco  _ knows  _ that this Barry is the original one, the one that gave him all of this awful nightmares about shattered timelines and monsters in the dark, hunting him down. It’s this Barry’s fault that there are seven  _ billion  _ people on the planet whose lives have been screwed with, flipped, reset and rewound and turned upside-down.

That wasn’t something Cisco could forgive him for without getting to know Barry again. That wasn’t something that he could just let slide because this guy had the same face, body, mind of the his-

No. Don’t think about that. As similar as he seems, this Barry might as well be a total stranger as far as Cisco is concerned. He looks like his Barry, yes, but he’s not.

_ (He might be better,  _ the same hopeful voice from before pipes up.  _ He might be better, he might understand, he might not abandon you.) _

“Do you want me to give you a lift home?” Barry offers, stepping away. “I understand if you don’t want me to, it’s totally fine, but-I want to show you that I can be better. We can start over again. That the person who hurt you wasn’t  _ me.” _

“Looks a hell of a lot like you,” Cisco mutters, before glancing out one of the large windows that line the hallways of the community center that hosts the support group. Rain is smacking against the windows, and the sky is dark enough to be black. As much as he’d like to refuse Barry’s offer, Dante is currently using his car to finally try to get a job for once and he  _ so  _ does not want to walk home in this weather.

Barry gives him a hopeful look, and Cisco’s resolve crumples right then and there. He sighs.

“Fine, you can run me home. Wait, is my address the same for you in this timeline?” He barely has time to finish before Barry’s arms scoop him up, wrapping securely around his legs and back and holding him bridal style for roughly two seconds before gently depositing him on his couch.

“Yes,” Barry says, a little too smug for Cisco’s taste, and he stands up, pushing past him and heading toward the kitchen. He usually eats something sweet after the group therapy sessions.

“How did you get in?” Cisco asks, sitting back down on the couch and pointedly not offering Barry any of his jellybeans. He frowns as he remembers that particular power of Barry’s-the one that he’s always had a problem with. “Oh, right. Phasing.”

Barry sits down next to him, and Cisco leans away. Barry frowns. “What’s wrong?”

It’s said so innocently that Cisco wants to scream. But he doesn’t. Instead he takes a deep breath like his brother taught him to do when he gets overwhelmed and holds up both of his hands in a ‘time-out’ gesture, setting the bag of jellybeans in his lap. “Listen, Barry, if we’re gonna start from square one, we need to have some rules.”

“Of course,” Barry says immediately, because that’s just the kind of person he is.

“First,” Cisco begins, “don’t phase through the walls and doors of my house without asking. That’s not cool, dude. Second…” He swallows. “Second, I don’t want you to do that thing you do. Where you hug people from behind.”

“Okay,” Barry chirps, more easily than Cisco’s used to him agreeing. He frowns a little. “It’s cool if you don’t want to answer, but, like… Can I ask why?”

Cisco swallows again, thicker than before. “I… We were…” He shakes his head. “We were together. Me and you, I mean. Not you? The Barry that you used to be before you messed up the timeline while doing… I don’t know what.”

“We were-we were a couple?” Barry’s eyes are huge again, and it  _ hurts. _ “For how long?”

Cisco smiles a little wryly. “About a year, give or take. It was a mutual breakup. That was before everything  _ really  _ went sour, before Caitlin became-before Caitlin left. It was a little bit after things started to get strained with Iris, I think. Between you and her and me. We were the only ones left, and Iris was still fighting with Joe, and we both decided it was for the best.”

“Oh.” Barry pauses. “I won’t do anything like that if you don’t want me to, then, I can see how that would be-especially since-yeah.”

“Yeah,” Cisco echoes. “If we’re going to start all over again, then you can’t do that. You have to act like we’re total strangers who just so happen to know a lot about each other. Starting over, all the way from the beginning.”

“Should I pretend to be in a coma to make it more realistic?” Barry jokes, and Cisco flinches. Barry winces and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I… I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to start over.”

“Well, if you want to be my friend again, you’re gonna have to,” Cisco says coldly, and it comes out even harsher than he had expected it to. Barry looks at the floor, but Cisco refuses to back down. “You can’t just-just do something like that and not expect there to be consequences, Barry. You can’t just mess with something fragile like that, something as breakable as  _ time itself,  _ and not expect there to be any consequences!”

“You’re right,” Barry says hollowly, looking up to meet Cisco’s eyes again. They’re glimmering with tears, and Cisco can’t help the small clenching in his gut that knows that he caused them. No. Barry needs to hear this. Barry needs to hear this and he needs to understand that what he’s been doing, fucking with the timestream for his own gain, now matter how important it is,  _ can’t keep happening.  _ “You’re right, I screwed up. I messed up everything.”

Cisco nods slowly. “Yes, you did. And I’m gonna help you fix it.”

“You-what? You are?” Barry’s looking at him like he actually can’t believe the words that just came out of Cisco’s mouth. “After what I said to you?”

“Of  _ course  _ I’m going to help you fix it,” Cisco sighs. “I’m not a dick, I want everyone to be safe and happy and alive as much as you do. But I’ll only help you on one condition.” He paused. “You  _ never  _ do anything like this again.”

Barry takes a deep breath. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.” Cisco holds out his hand. “Starting over. I’m Cisco Ramon.”

Barry looks down at his hand for a moment before looking back up at Cisco with wide eyes and an even wider smile as he takes Cisco’s hand in his. “Barry Allen.”


End file.
